


Gaia Rising

by badluckvixen13 (alteringviews)



Series: 1 Million for Black Hermione [39]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Black Hermione Granger, Multi, Wizarding Politics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-12-02 09:16:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11506320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alteringviews/pseuds/badluckvixen13
Summary: She is a fantastic writer, or so Angelique said. What happens when she decides to enter that contest Angelique begged her to and step outside of her normal repertoire.Well, things get interesting.At least there are enough hot men around in Hogwarts University engaging in very steamy activities in public to feed her muse"Shouldn't you be ashamed?"Hermione glowered at Angelique's amused smile, "You want to be my proofreader or not?"





	Gaia Rising

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Diagon Venus](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/307236) by tamlane. 



_ Quiet, staring at her like some impossibly beautiful thing with those eyes as dark as the night sky above his home. Just… looking at her, taking her in, assessing her, seeing her truly-- it made her want to wrap herself in a thick cloak even though she was already fully clothed.  _

_ This look was different than any other he’d ever given her.  Usually, he looked at her as someone would a a rare bird. She could have been something he wanted to cage and watch forever, completely satisfied with never quite understanding the world behind those eyes, something he wanted to possess sure, but even that didn’t seem quite right.  _

_ Possess…. _

_ He wanted to posses her from the ends of her curls down to the core of her heart where logic and emotion tumbled together on the infinite dancefloor that was her mind. He looked at her as if he wanted to watch that dance with his hand between her legs, her heart in his hand, and his tongue in her mouth forever.  _

_ She knew from the first time that they met, that no one had ever looked at her like that before and no one should ever look at her like that ever again. She didn't know how to handle it now. There was no amount of time to teach her how to handle it in the future either. _

_ “How ever you want.” _

_ His voice rumbled, soul deep and hungry, carrying a lust and swooning spell with it too effective to ignore. Her breath hitched, a quiet thing burning in her chest, warming her enough that her fear seemed to ease a bit. Perhaps it was because the fear of him wasn't as immediate as the fear of collapsing to the floor like some medieval damsel. _

_ No one should ever look at her like that. _

_ She didn’t-- _

_ She couldn’t-- _

_ “Yes.” _

_ He turned. Vlad wasn’t one to ever move fast, always as patient as the Black Sea eating away at the shores of his homeland. She felt her heart thudding hard against her ribcage as he prowled the few steps towards her and reached out ever slow. Afraid to startle her, afraid to startle himself maybe. _

_ She found that she couldn’t move, frozen and watching that hand, near glowing with power, the warmth of the sun, and Vlad’s strength and elegance in his large hands and strong fingers. How different they were from her own. _

_ Calloused, strong and gentle--he was a Quidditch player.  _

_ Soft, small, and timid--she was a bookworm.  _

_ Would he hold her tight the way he did as he flew through the wind? Would his hands be gentle the way he held that book on that warm, Grecian terrace with the scent of the Sea and all the history of Greece around them?  _

_ Would he hold her at all?  _

_ “Please,” she gasped, but he moved no faster, restraining himself and holding her in place with those eyes. Those eyes that saw everything she was behind the bookstacks.  _

_ “Please.” _

_ He said nothing, watching her tense and tremble with anticipation of that hand. It was only two steps to bring him close enough to smell the scents of  warm bourbon and spice clinging to his robes. Only a few inches that separated them. Only a few between his hand from her bare skin, the warmth from her face, his olive from her brown. _

_ “Please…” _

“Hermione.”

She looked up expectantly as Harry took a seat beside her, stilling her hand and pressing pause on the movie she’d made of her summer in her head.

“Hello, Harry,” she said with chuckle. If Harry looked anymore distressed or harried, she would have thought he'd failed an exam. “What’s wrong? You look like you have detention.”

He glowered at her as she beamed remembering how much he hated detention back in Hogwarts Mandatory. Thinking of how often he and Ron had landed their arses in detention back then, it was pretty funny to think that he hated it as much. It was their fault really, they were always getting into trouble with their shenanigans even with all the good influence she was they’d ended up in detention at least once a month. 

She's pretty sure that he only came to Hogwarts Academy because there was no detention at all. Well, that and it was necessary to go into Auror work. When the war ended sometime when they were children, the entire wizarding world went under a revision. They institutionalized higher learning, got rid of the barrier between muggle and wizarding worlds and created the International Wizarding Ministry which, much like the United Nations, worked to keep the peace across the world.

_ More or less, _ she thought with a smirk.

There wasn't another Voldemort but ,in her opinion, they could damn well do something about the horrible fights people got into at Quidditch matches and the attacks on the players.

_ Never mind that you're biased, ‘Mia. _

“I don’t,” Harry said wryly. “I’m just… having some trouble with this problem. Could you help me?”

“Sure,” she said offering up her hand to take it as Angelina came waltzing down the the rows

“Hello!” She greeted, taking a seat across from them, her eyes zeroing in on Hermione’s notebook. 

“Not yet,” she said, shaking her head and watching the older woman’s smile deflate. “You haven’t even given me a full week.”

Angelina pouted. 

“I  _ know, _ but I can’t help it!” Angelina said hanging her head, “I  _ need _ to know. _ ” _

Hermione shook her head, “Give me some time, these things take time.”

Angelina nodded, she knew. Gods how she knew, but she felt like Serene in the story--on edge and always anticipating, like every pause in the storyline was just a slow tip into a glorious oblivion. 

For goodness sake, she knew the story. They talked all summer about Hermione’s internship in Bulgaria and the guy she met there, but there was something about the way Hermione had turned her summer into this whirlwind romance that made Angelina dying to read on. She was sure it had nothing to do with the details that Hermione left out about her summer, but the way the girl crafted the story.

“Why does Harry look like he's facing Snape’s detentions all over again?”

“Because he's facing Snape’s Academy level potions,” Hermione quipped. “It may as well be the same thing for him.”

Harry put his head down and watched Hermione look through his work.

“Well, you need to rethink that ingredient there and the temperature for sure,” she hummed thoughtfully. “Also is this a love potion or a sleeping draught?”

“It's supposed to be a healing potion.”

Angelina laughed as Hermione winced, “Well Harry, let's start from the top.”

**Author's Note:**

> I found the story by tamlane and I was heartbroken when I looked at the last updated date! Obviously, my writer heart just wasn't going to be happy leaving it like that.


End file.
